


Drip

by Vincent_Valentine



Series: Vent [2]
Category: Persona 4
Genre: Out of Character, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 17:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17047088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vincent_Valentine/pseuds/Vincent_Valentine
Summary: Heed the tag. Its exactly what you think it is.





	Drip

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is pretty emo, but this is how i kinda stop myself from hurting myself. by writing this crap... dont read it if you like, dont want to read about yosuke cutting himself. i havent played or consumed any p4 realted media in over a year.
> 
> -rohanfxcker.

Headphones on and slumped against the bathroom wall. That's where Yosuke was now, his breathing slow and surprisingly steady. He'd lugged his laptop into the room with him, looking down at the message board with wide but focused eyes.   
  
Wasn't this shit only for sad emo kids or whatever? He was conflicted in his thoughts, but the dark theme on the forums were soft on his eyes, and reminded him of what he was here to do.   
  
__ Breathe, you idiot.   
  
“Okay, fine.”   
  
The pictures were graphic, red covering so much of the skin that it made it seem as though the putrid color was what was supposed to be there.

 

_ Get on with it. _   


  
He didn’t find this site on his own, however. It had been a message from a classmate, a simple:   
  
"hey, this shit fucked...  "   
  
Link included, he agreed with his acquaintance's sentiment,  _This is really fucked._

 

A forum of sorts, it contained multitudes of pages filled with people detailing their own self-abuse, from cutting to burning to even snapping their own fingers (Though that seemed more uncommon than the prior). Some even went as far as to link videos to their posts, showing them in the act. This was truly fucked.

  
So, why had he gone through page after page, eyes glued to his screen.   
  
And now, why was he crumpled up on the floor in the bathroom, home alone with his dad's lock knife pocketed.   
  
He thought about Saki, her words burned into his brain like the branding of an ox.

 

**He pulled out the knife.**   
  
  
He thought about their last trip to the TV world, his assurance to Yu that he could take the last shadow down, only for him to misalign his swing, leaving the shadow still standing, leaving the shadow to hit Chie with a zap of lightning. The burn on her arm looked wretched, bubbling under the skin. He knew it'd heal fine, but he could feel their eyes on him. Another fuckup from the fuckup king.   


  
**He clicked the knife into position.**

 

He tapped the cool metal against his skin, lightly though not to break the soft flesh of his arm. 

 

_is this a mistake?_   He knew the answer, this was a terrible idea, but the chance of even momentary relief was too appealing.

 

**He prodded his arm a little harder.**

  
He cut once, twice, six times along his upper forearm, blood welling and dripping quickly down his arm into a puddle on the floor, staining his pants in the process. The lines stung, he wasn’t sure if he could cut deeper, the pain was causing him to bite his lip, nearly drawing blood from there as well.

 

His mind had been so clouded before, he could barely breathe and his chest felt like his heart was going to burst. But finally, his head was clear, no longer clouded like the TV world's fog.   
  
He rested his head against the cool wall behind him and stayed there for a while, before coming down from the adrenaline high, and feeling that the cuts had stopped bleeding. He stood, grabbing the old towel he'd brought with him and carefully wiped his arm, before mopping the puddle on the floor.   
  
He took a scalding shower, the water stung his skin again.   
  
He dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and snuck his towel into the washer, along with his jeans.   
  
He hoped that the stains would come out, not that anyone else in the house would notice the stained towel, or if they did, they wouldn't speak up.   
  
  



End file.
